<< Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin >>
Amidst the noisy ball, in Hell
Of everyday distress,
I’ve seen you, but the secret’s veil
Was covering your face.
Your fair eyes were sad and bright,
And voice was so sweet,
As sound of a pipe apart
Or murmur of the sea.
I’ve liked your fine and slender waist,
And thoughtful image, whole,
And sound of your voice -- it nests
Forever in my soul...
